Two Tankas     Sisyphus   A fly, a window — an erratic, dogged climb with nowhere to go but back to the bottom — time without reason, without rhyme.     To the Mosquito in My Bedroom   Move on — I don’t want to kill you. Just go away. Your thin whine will haunt me to sleep tonight and play into my dreams before day.     © Michael Fleming Dummerston, Vermont July 2022